Blood and Gold (Outlaw Ranger Book 3)

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Blood and Gold (Outlaw Ranger Book 3) Page 6

by James Reasoner


  "You know, I'm honestly not sure," Horner said. "I tried to find out, but I never could. It wouldn't surprise me a bit, though, knowing Rainey the way I do. The man's ruthless. But whether he did or not, he still took advantage of Don Felipe. It just wasn't right, how he made Don Felipe take a fraction of what his share of the mine was worth. A mere pittance. If Rainey had treated him fairly, he might have had a chance to hold on to his ranch."

  "You know a lot about that, don't you?" Braddock said. "Who told you? Elena?"

  She turned in the seat to glare down at him and say, "Shut up! I'll take this rifle and smash your teeth in with the butt if you keep talking."

  Braddock ignored the threat and went on, "You're Santiago's daughter, aren't you, Elena? Rainey mentioned that Manuel had a sister, but I'd forgotten about that until just now. Looks like Rainey had the wrong sibling pegged as the one who wants revenge."

  "I'm warning you, Ranger—"

  "You and Horner wanted the same thing," Braddock interrupted her. "To ruin Martin Rainey and make him suffer. So you threw in together."

  "That's right," Elena said. "And before the night is over, he's going to die, he and that dog of a son."

  "Why move so fast? You just started your grand plan, didn't you? Killing all those men and stealing that gold, that was just the first step."

  "We don't have the luxury of taking our time anymore," Horner said. "You ought to know that, Braddock. Now that the Rangers are involved, we have to go ahead and kill Rainey and Jason, take our share of the gold, and disappear forever in Mexico. It would have been nice to make Rainey suffer longer, but I can be satisfied with sending the son of a bitch to hell where he belongs."

  Braddock let his head sag back and laughed. He couldn't help it. They had no way of knowing that he was an outlaw Ranger, not the real thing anymore. Captain Hughes would have heard about the massacre in Buzzard's Canyon, and eventually he might send a man out here to investigate it, but as short-handed as the Rangers were, it was just as likely that they would never take an official interest in the case.

  But Horner and Elena didn't know that. They didn't have a clue.

  They wanted to kill him to prevent something that probably would never happen anyway.

  "He's gone loco," Elena said. "But he'll stop laughing soon enough. We're here."

  The buggy lurched to a halt. Paco dismounted, reached into the vehicle, dragged Braddock out, and stood him up. In the moonlight, Braddock saw several buildings scattered around, and beyond them, like a yawning black mouth, an opening in the mountainside with several wagons parked near it.

  "This is your new home, Ranger," Elena said. "Welcome to hell."

  Chapter 11

  "This is Rainey's mine?" Braddock asked.

  "This is my father's mine!" Elena snapped. "It was his dream. He made it happen. And then Rainey stole it from him!" She tossed her head defiantly, making the thick waves of dark hair stir around her face. "Now I have stolen it back."

  Several men emerged from one of the buildings and walked toward them in the moonlight. They carried rifles, and even though Braddock didn't recognize them, he knew the type. Hardcases, hired killers, the sort of men who would do any job, no matter how brutal, if the pay was right.

  Including butchering a bunch of innocent men, as they had done in Buzzard's Canyon.

  "Your men moved in here at the mine, killed the guards who were loyal to Rainey, and took over," Braddock said. "Is that about the size of it?"

  "That's right," Elena said from the buggy seat.

  "Why not just do that to start with? Why murder all those men with the mule train?"

  "Because I wanted their blood on Rainey's hands! I wanted him to suffer from the guilt he would feel over their deaths."

  Charles Horner said, "That's one area in which we disagreed. I told Elena that Martin Rainey wasn't capable of feeling any guilt, because he never believes that he's in the wrong. That's just not something that's a part of him."

  "We've been working the men here as hard as we can, to take out as much gold as possible," Elena went on. "We'll keep doing that even after Rainey is dead, for a while, anyway. Maybe from now on. With Rainey and Jason gone, who's going to stop us?"

  "You were afraid the Rangers might," Braddock reminded her. "That's why you moved up your timetable."

  Elena scoffed.

  "We're too far across the border," she said. "The Rangers won't come all this way."

  She might be wrong about that, thought Braddock, but it didn't matter since the Rangers weren't really mixed up in this.

  Horner said, "That's one reason I'm a little worried about snatching Braddock like this. When the Rangers realize he's disappeared, won't they come looking for him?"

  "They'll search on the other side of the Rio Grande first," Elena said confidently. "Anyway, we're going to keep him alive. He can work in the mine, and we can use him as a hostage if we need to."

  Braddock smiled a little. He wouldn't be much good to them as a hostage. The Rangers wanted to arrest him, that was all. Other than that, they didn't care if he lived or died.

  "Dios mio, you people like to prattle on," Elena continued. "Paco, take Braddock into the mine and put him with the others."

  "Sí, querida," Paco said.

  Elena made a disgusted sound in response to the endearment, but Paco either didn't hear her or chose to ignore it. He shoved Braddock toward the black mouth of the mine tunnel. A couple of the men carrying rifles fell in behind them.

  As Braddock came closer to the mine, he saw a red glow flickering deep in the darkness. Welcome to hell, Elena had said, and that was what this looked like, Braddock realized: the gateway to Hades itself.

  Braddock looked over his shoulder and asked, "Were you really drunk back there in Alamoros, Paco, or were you just taking Elena's orders?"

  The big man chuckled and said, "I was drunk, all right, señor, but not as drunk as you thought. I was supposed to start a fight with you and knock you out, so we could bring you here without involving Señor Horner. But that failed."

  "You sound like you're a pretty smart hombre. You know that Elena and Horner are both crazy, don't you? They'll do anything to get their revenge, and they don't care who else gets hurt. Hell, earlier today Horner dropped a damn boulder on a man who might've still been alive. A man who worked for him...like you do."

  "I work for Señorita Santiago," Paco said. "And trying to turn me against her will do you no good, Ranger. You should save your breath." He laughed again. "You'll need it."

  Braddock fell silent. He had to see what awaited him inside the mine before he could make any more plans.

  That didn't take long. Paco prodded him into the tunnel. The red glow grew stronger as they delved deeper into the mountainside. The tunnel bent to the right, and around the turn the passage opened up into a large, high-ceilinged chamber with a tunnel continuing deeper into the mine on the far side. The chamber was lit by several lanterns. One part of the room was separated from the rest by a wall of iron bars set into the stone ceiling and floor.

  That made Braddock frown in puzzlement. Those bars had been there for a while, since before the gunmen working for Horner and Elena had taken over the mine. Why were they there? Had Martin Rainey been keeping his workers locked up here like slaves?

  There were men on the wrong side of those bars now, more than a dozen prisoners crowded into the closed-off area. They wore what had once been the white, pajama-like outfit of farmers, although now the garments were so stained and dirty they were almost black.

  Except for one man whose clothing was better, although still considerably worn, stained, and ragged. He looked like he had been a vaquero at one time. Now he was as haggard and exhausted as his fellow prisoners.

  On the other side of the room were bunks and tables, as well as quite a few crates stacked up against the wall. Four men sat at one of the tables playing cards and passing around a bottle of tequila. They had shotguns within easy reach, and they forgot about their
game and stood up as Braddock, Paco, and the other two men came into the chamber. They were guards, Braddock knew, more members of the gang Elena and Horner had put together.

  "Who's this?" one of the men asked as he frowned at Braddock. "Somebody else to dig?"

  "This is a Texas Ranger," Paco said with a big grin. "His name is Braddock. But now he is one of the nameless ones who exist only to labor and make us rich."

  The guards smirked. They were hardcases, the sort of men Braddock had chased down and arrested or killed when he was a real lawman. They would enjoy making life a living hell for him down here under the ground.

  One of the guards said, "Cut him loose and we'll put him in there." They picked up their shotguns and covered Braddock as Paco stepped behind him and drew a Bowie knife from a fringed sheath at his waist. The men with the rifles moved back, out of the line of fire for the scatterguns.

  "Aren't you afraid I'll try something and you'll get cut down, too?" Braddock asked Paco.

  "You're between me and the shotguns, Señor Ranger," Paco said. "True, I'm bigger than you and might catch a little of the buckshot, but you would stop most of it, especially at this range. I'd still have a good chance to live. You, none at all."

  He was right about that, Braddock thought. The odds were too high right now for him to make a play.

  But if he allowed them to lock him up in there, would he ever have another chance?

  As Paco used the Bowie to saw on the tough rawhide thongs, Braddock said, "Why is there a prison in here? Did Rainey keep his workers locked up like this? Doesn't seem right."

  "Señor Rainey is a bad man, but no, he didn't lock up his miners. That area was used for storage, to keep the dynamite and the other supplies locked up." Paco laughed. "There are many bandits in Mexico, you know."

  Braddock's gaze darted toward the crates stacked against the other wall. They must have been moved out of the storage area. Some of them had dynamite in them, he thought, and that gave him an idea.

  The prisoner who looked like a vaquero came to the bars and gripped them. His lean, dark face was angry as he said, "You cannot do this, Paco. You were once a good man, an honest man, a hard worker."

  Paco looked over Braddock's shoulder and said, "And what did that ever get me, eh? Enough money for a bottle of pulqué and a whore once a month."

  "My father took better care of you than that, and you know it," the young man shot back at him. "He would not want you doing this."

  "What? Following your sister's orders? Helping to avenge his death, the way you were too weak to do?"

  Braddock drew in a sharp breath. He realized he was looking at Manuel Santiago. Elena had claimed that her brother was dead. Obviously, she hadn't meant that literally. They must have had a falling out over Elena's desire for revenge on Martin Rainey, and Manuel had wound up being locked away and enslaved by his own sister.

  Manuel was dead to Elena, Braddock supposed. That was what she had meant.

  She really was loco, he thought.

  And she and Horner planned to return to Rainey's ranch tonight to murder him and Jason. For all Braddock knew, they were already gone, heading north again toward the Rio Grande. Because of that, he couldn't afford to bide his time, no matter how bad the odds were against him.

  The last of the rawhide thongs fell away from Braddock's wrists. One of the guards lowered his shotgun and stepped to the door set into the bars. He took a key from where it hung on his belt. The other three guards swung around and pointed their shotguns toward Manuel Santiago and the rest of the prisoners, forcing them to move away from the bars and the door.

  Braddock figured the two men from outside still had him covered with their rifles, but at least the Greeners weren't aimed at him now. This was the best chance he was going to get.

  By now he had recovered from being knocked out. His mind was clear, and his muscles were working smoothly. He stumbled anyway as Paco pushed him toward the cell. The man at the door unlocked it and swung it open.

  "Get in—" the big man began.

  Braddock twisted and lunged, ramming his shoulder into Paco's chest and driving him backward. The move took Paco by surprise. His feet weren't braced. He swayed back just as one of the riflemen pulled the trigger. The bullet smacked into Paco's shoulder and made him howl in pain as echoes from the shot racketed back and forth inside the chamber.

  Braddock left his feet in a leaping dive. He wasn't going after any of the guards, though. Instead his hand closed around the bale attached to one of the lanterns sitting on a table. He rolled over as another shot blasted. With a whip-like motion of his arm, he flung the lantern at the stack of crates on the far wall.

  The glass reservoir shattered as it hit them, and flame exploded from the spraying kerosene.

  "The dynamite!" one of the guards shouted in shrill panic. "The dynamite!"

  Chapter 12

  The two riflemen turned and dashed for the mouth of the tunnel. So did one of the shotgunners.

  Some of the men behind the bars cried out in fear, but others, including Manuel Santiago, stampeded toward the open door. The guard who had just unlocked it tried to slam it closed again, but Manuel leaped forward and struck the door with his shoulder, knocking it back against the guard and staggering him.

  In a continuation of the same movement that had sent the lantern flying across the chamber, Braddock rolled over again just as a guard triggered both barrels of his scattergun. The double load of buckshot slammed into the floor, barely missing Braddock.

  Paco staggered back and forth, yelling as he clutched his wounded shoulder with his other hand. He steadied himself, focused his rage on Braddock, and charged just as the outlaw Ranger surged to his feet.

  Braddock saw Paco barreling toward him like a runaway freight train and knew that if the big man was able to catch him in a bear hug, Paco might well crush the life out of him. That knowledge gave Braddock the desperate speed he needed to twist out of the way. He clubbed his hands together and smashed them against the back of Paco's neck as the man went past him. That blow drove Paco face first into the bars.

  Manuel Santiago grabbed the twin barrels of the guard's shotgun and wrenched them upward. The man let go of the weapon and clawed at the revolver on his hip instead, but before he could draw it, Manuel rammed the shotgun's butt into his throat. The man staggered, gagging and gasping as he tried to draw air through his shattered windpipe.

  He didn't have to struggle for breath for long, because a second later Manuel cracked his skull with a second stroke.

  A few feet away, the other prisoners poured out of the makeshift cell, still yelling and screaming and practically trampling on each other as they tried to get out of the mine before the dynamite exploded. They stomped right over the guard who was trying to reload his shotgun. His cries lasted only a moment.

  Meanwhile, on the other side of the chamber, the flames leaped higher as several of the crates burned. The fire spread to the cots, and they began to blaze as well.

  Paco bounced off the bars and tried to wheel around toward Braddock, but he ran right into another blow from the clubbed fists. This one landed on Paco's already broken and bleeding nose. Paco hit the bars again, this time with his back, and when he rebounded he pitched forward and landed face down. He didn't get up.

  Braddock leaned down and pulled Paco's Colt from its holster, then scooped the big man's fallen Bowie knife from the floor. He turned to Manuel Santiago, who was the only one left in the chamber who was still conscious. The rest of the prisoners had fled around the bend in the tunnel.

  "We'd better get out of here," Braddock said. "There's a good chance that dynamite won't explode, but it still might."

  Manuel grinned and said, "I knew burning wouldn't set it off. I grew up around this mine."

  "Some of those other fellas probably know that, too, if they'd stop to think about it," Braddock said dryly. "Good thing they didn't."

  As they trotted around the bend, more shots blasted, but these came from o
utside. Up ahead, men shouted and cried out in pain. The workers came flooding back along the tunnel.

  "The guards got out!" one of the men told Manuel. "Now they and the others shoot at us! They won't let us out! We're going to die!"

  "Not yet," Braddock said. He stuffed Paco's gun in the waistband of his trousers and turned to run back to the chamber. The hellish glare was even brighter now, since the fire was bigger.

  Braddock put a hand in front of his face to shield it a little from the heat as he approached the inferno. One of the crates hadn't caught fire yet. He bent and grabbed it, jerked it up and turned to run along the tunnel. He knew how nitroglycerine sometimes sweated out of dynamite and pooled in the bottom of a crate like this, creating a bomb that took only a little jostling to set it off. He could only hope that hadn't happened with the dynamite in this crate.

  If it had, he'd never know it. One second he'd be here, the next blasted to kingdom come.

  Nothing happened.

  The miners had retreated from the entrance. Bullets from outside still came through the opening and whined off the tunnel walls. The men huddled behind whatever cover they could find, caught between ruthless killers in front of them and what they feared was about to be a huge explosion behind them.

  Manuel Santiago was crouched behind a small outcropping of rock. Braddock set the crate down beside him. Manuel's eyes got a little bigger as he looked at it.

  "Fire might not set that off, but if a bullet were to hit one of the sticks—"

  "Don't reckon you've got any blasting caps and fuses," Braddock said.

  "They'd be back there with the supplies. The ones you set on fire."

  Braddock used the Bowie knife to pry the top off the crate. He was going to feel damned foolish, he thought, if he found that it was full of, say, canned peaches instead of high explosives.

  He knew from the acrid smell of the contents that it was dynamite. He reached in and pulled one of the red, paper-wrapped cylinders from its packing.

 

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